


Recklessness

by pjomuffins



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Death, F/F, Femslash, Gen, I love her, Kinda, clarisse la rue - Freeform, first fic dont stab me k thanks, how do tags work, lol theres probably going to be a lot more characters, my wife, pray for me xoxo, ruegard, um
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 13:19:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8250484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjomuffins/pseuds/pjomuffins
Summary: Clarisse La Rue is living the life. Constant nightmares, in love with a dead girl, monsters lurking around every corner, and to add to all that, she has classes and homework. Perfect. Sometimes she kinda wishes is could just... stop. Like maybe she could take a twenty year nap. Be careful what you wish for, though. Sometimes it's not what you expect.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hiya i'm kaela this is my first fic hopefully its not awful it was betaed (?? idk if thats how you spell it) by @ not_pumpkin_jackson on instagram so thx xoxo also my writing isnt like this its just sometimes im lazy and use like 2579249 abbreviations so thats lit i hope u enjoy the first chapter and hopefully u cry if not go u but yea idk how long thisll be and ao3 is confusing as hELL but nice thx for reading also a bunch of it is in italics but ?? idk if they show up god help me anyways this chapters like 2,700 words so im super proud go me ok this is long but i still cant tell if its in italics oh wELL if its not then suffer mMMMMMM i got it to italics go me im a #computer #hacker bkessed

Recklessness was both a gift and a curse. As a gift, you didn’t care what happened, but as a curse  _ you didn’t care what happened. _ Until it was too late, of course. Those were Clarisse’s thoughts after Silena Beauregard died. Really, the death of a best friend was awful. But when said best friend was the only person you could open up to, and when you were totally, absolutely and completely in love with them, it was around eighty times worse. After Silena’s death, she just didn’t care what happened anymore. She fought and she fought and came out with more scratches and bruises and blood than before. It had been years since the Battle of Manhattan, and she was in college now, but it was becoming a little bit too much. Chris and her had broken up after Kronos had been defeated.  _ Good riddance,  _ Clarisse had thought when he broke up with her. It was a coping method though, because after they broke up, they spread further apart.  _ Just X out another friend on the very short list, why don’t you, Clarisse? Become a loner for all I care. _ She had what, two friends left? No, three. Annabeth, Connor and Travis. She sometimes forgot the Stolls were a separate person, as they were very similar. Besides, she wasn’t the closest to Annabeth and the Stolls. It wasn’t like she could tell them all of her deepest and darkest secrets. Not like she had any. Alright, maybe she had a few, but still. They weren’t close, nor were they ‘Best Friends Forever!’, not like her and Silena were. 

Anyways, she was alone. Monster attacks against her were becoming more frequent, for whatever reason, and she became more rash. It was quite annoying, actually. Couldn’t she just get a damn education in peace? Questions were being thrown about. The entire college knew how tough she was, playing the most sports out of all of them, but her injuries were becoming a little bit excessive. ‘Was she getting into more fights?’ ‘Is there like… an out of school wrestling club I don’t know about?’ and even, ‘Is it self harm?’ Seeing as how Clarisse didn’t bother covering up her marks and scars (really, she should’ve looked into that now that she thought about it. Could’ve helped avoid a lot of drama.), questions were frequent. She had an answer, but nothing that they would understand. It was nearing the end of the school year, and everyone had learned to avoid her by now, only making her lack of caution worse. She had a few questions of her own, of course. Such as, ‘Why the  _ hell _ are all the monsters coming after  _ me _ ?’ and ‘What if would happen if I went back to camp?’ She decided on doing the latter, thinking maybe she could take a break. Clarisse wanted to finish this semester of college first, though, and not leave without a trace. She had promised herself that much, at least. There were two more days. Two more days until she could leave for camp and she felt as if all the gods were against her. She kept missing her classes, more questions were arising. She had been to the nurse more times than she could count, and now that sports were over, every time she went she could only say that she fell. People were suspecting things, hell, Clarisse was suspicious herself. Were the gods up to something? Fuck, they better not be. She didn’t want to end up like Percy and Annabeth. Their entire life was just a train ride of misery for gods’ sake.  

Tomorrow was the last day of school. The day she would leave. The day where possibly she could be safe for at least one damned day. Clarisse would be waking up at three a.m. tomorrow to start her journey to Camp Half Blood. It was, what, eight o’clock now? She could probably fall asleep now if she needed to. And considering the taxi trip, five hour plane ride, and trek to Camp Half Blood she had to complete tomorrow, she figured she needed it. Clarisse moved a bag and a few items of clothing to the ground and got under the blanket. 

She didn’t want to rely on CHB for safety. She was a women of independence, thank you very much. Unfortunately, though, going to the camp seemed to be her best option. Hopefully she’d see the Stolls or something. She had been alone far too long. Her thoughts were mainly positive about her journey tomorrow as she slowly fell asleep. As soon as she was sleeping, though, her pleasant thoughts quickly turned to an all too familiar nightmare. At this point, it was practically a memory, considering the amount of times she had had it. Then again, it truly was a memory, no matter how much Clarisse chose to ignore that fact.

_ She looked down at the corpse in front of her. No, it wasn’t a corpse. Yet. Yet. Yet. That word would haunt her for years. Her best friend was dying. Her best friend would not be alive in a few minutes. She was choking on tears, choking on air, choking on her own fucking breath. Silena was her world. Silena was her everything. They were never apart, and vowed to never leave the other one hanging. Said vow would be broken in a few minutes if nothing was done. Why wasn’t anybody doing anything?  _ Why wasn’t anybody doing anything?  _ “You  _ stupid _ Aphrodite girl,” Clarisse sobbed, gasped, cried out. There were no words to describe how her voice broke. “You charged a drakon?  _ Why?” _ She felt sick. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. She felt like she was dying, and yet she wasn’t the one on her deathbed. Yet. Yet. Yet. “All my fault,” Silena said. She was crying. They both were. “The drakon, Charlie’s death… camp endangered-” How  _ dare _ she blame herself for something that was quite obviously not her fault? Clarisse sobbed again, bringing the head she held on her lap closer to her. There would always be too much space between the two of them. She needed her closer before she died. Before everything ended. “Stop it!” She practically yelled. “That’s not true.” Silena could never be so bad, and if she were to be Clarisse would forgive her in a heartbeat. Heartbeat. Something Silena wouldn’t have for much longer. Silena opened her hand. There was a braclet with a charm. A scythe. The mark of Kronos. Clarisse inhaled sharply. “You were the spy.” Percy Jackson had whispered. That she was. The spy? Clarisse wasted no time in pulling Silena even closer to her. Her heart sunk. And her stomach. And her spirits and hopes and everything. Everything sunk in that moment. The daughter of Aphrodite tried to nod. Clarisse didn’t allow that. She hugged her closer. Nodding would mean there would be space in between them. She was having none of that. “Before… before I liked Charlie, Luke was nice to me. He was so… charming. Handsome.” Before Charlie was her, though. It would always be her. She would savor those few months until the end of time. This must’ve happened after that, and before him. Relationship after relationship after relationship. What a typical Aphrodite girl. She loved her for it. “Later, I wanted to stop helping him, but he threatened to tell. He told me I was saving lives. Fewer people would get hurt.” Silena caught her eye after saying that. “He told me he wouldn’t hurt...Charlie. He lied to me.”  _ What a manipulative son of a  _ fucking _ bitch,  _ Clarisse thought. She was going to tear him apart. Limb by limb. Bone by bone. He would be ashes and dust when she was done with him. How dare he.  _ How dare he _. Everything was burning and the city wasn’t even on fire. Yet. Yet. Yet. Clarisse wanted to scream. She looked up instead though. They still had a war to win. She was empty, but there was only one way she could get her revenge. Winning this war and killing Luke fucking Castellan. “Go, help the centaurs. Protect the doors. GO!” Clarisse yelled at her cabin mates. Gods. Silena inhaled slowly, painfully, heavily. “Forgive me,” She choked on her own breath. So did Clarisse. Forgive her?  _ Forgive her? _ Of course she would. Why did she ask? Clarisse had decided on forgiveness the moment the words about her being a traitor left Silena’s mouth. A traitor. That was what she thought of herself. Silena Beauregard was going to die thinking she had betrayed the camp, her best friend, and herself. Clarisse La Rue was having none of it. “You’re not dying.” Clarisse whispered, softly yet stern.  _ You’re not fucking dying,  _ she thought. She gripped Silena’s hair in her hand. It wasn’t its normal softness. It was filled with dry blood and tears and was knotty and awful and nothing Silena would let her hair be like on normal circumstances. She breathed in slowly and exhaled quickly. “Charlie…” Silena whispered. Clarisse couldn’t even  _ think  _ about how she whispered it so longingly. She missed him. But she had a feeling she would miss Silena more. So selfish. That’s what started this to begin with. Selfishness. What a life. What a fucking life. She inhaled and exhaled and cried, holding onto Silena so tightly her knuckles were white and her hands hurt. She never wanted to let go. “See Charlie…” Silena said, her voice fading, cracking. Her eyes were worlds, no,  _ universes, _ away. Her eyes would never see again. And Clarisse would never see anything but those eyes.  _

That’s always how the dream ended. There was no Clarisse laying herself across a corpse, no sobbing until she couldn’t feel her lungs, no comforting touch on the shoulder from Chris. The nightmare only consisted of the event, never the aftermath. In both her dreams and real life she never got her revenge. She never stopped seeing Silena’s unfocused, tear filled, and completely gone eyes.

The repercussion of the dream always ended the same way as well. This time was no different. Her alarm blared and she sputtered for a moment, bringing a hand to her face and feeling the tears. The sweat. The panic. What a life. What a fucking life. She gasped for breath, Silena’s eyes that were universes away still on her mind. 

Possibly the only difference of this morning from others was that when she woke up it was still pitch black outside. She drew in a breath, sitting up and turning off her alarm. She sighed. Slowly, painfully, heavily. She got out of bed, wiping her arm across her face to remove it of tears. There was no time to mope. This happened at least once a week, she should’ve been used to it. She would never get used to it. She was so tired. Tired of having that dream. Tired of being angry and sad and  _ tired.  _ Tired from waking up at three-fucking-am. Clarisse packed her bags, not having to worry about waking her roommate. She didn’t have one. The girl, named Vanessa, moved out a couple of months ago when the questions came about. She assumed she was scared of her. It was alright, though, since mostly everyone was afraid of her. But it wasn’t alright, no matter what she told herself. Because everyone was frightened or confused or downright  _ rude  _ to her, she was alone. Being alone was never fun, even if you eventually got used to it. Just like the dream, she didn’t think she could ever get used to being alone either. Clarisse gathered all of her cash and a credit card that her mom had given her. She was getting a taxi to the airport and a plane to Long Island, New York. Hopefully, Zeus wouldn’t blast her out of the sky. He and her dad were on good terms, right? Clarisse would have to check on that before she boarded. She looked around for possibly the last time and shouldered her duffel bag, sliding a few other bags onto her forearm. Clarisse opened her door, moving quietly, not wanting to wake up any others who were asleep in their dorm on her floor. Just because she had woken up early to make her way to a magical summer camp doesn’t mean everyone had to. Wait, fuck. Where was supposed to put her room key? Clarisse hung it on the door, the lanyard hanging on the door knob. Guess that was goodbye. Would she miss the place? She had been staying in the room for, what, two years now? Clarisse didn’t think she would miss it. She hadn’t made any friends and had only gone to college to try and complete the sparse education she had received. There were no memories in that room besides studying, sleeping, and waking up in a cold sweat due to her nightmare. Nothing was particularly noteworthy or pleasant. She opened the door to a staircase and made her way to the ground level floor, opening that door as well and making her way outside. Sighing, Clarisse looked around. She didn’t know if she’d be coming back for classes next year, hell, she wasn’t sure if she’d be coming back for classes  _ ever.  _ Getting to Camp Half Blood as soon as possible was her top priority, though, so she didn’t let it sit on her mind for too long. Hopefully, nothing attacked while she was on her way to CHB. Of course, it would probably be nothing she couldn’t take on. She had been fighting her entire life, and especially the past few months. Though, she felt it was better if she got to CHB as soon as possible, and staying for a day of classes where they did nothing seemed useless.

When she heard the rustling of bushes, she thought otherwise. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea. She dropped her bags, pulling out her sword, and looked around, all on instinct. She had ditched her spear for a sword after the Battle of Manhattan. Too many bad memories were carried along with the weapon. Something jumped from behind her, but she was too slow, and it’s claws dug into her neck. She screamed. She was never too slow. How did this beast get past her sword?  _ Wake up, bitches. I’m over here getting practically murdered while you’re getting your beauty rest, _ she thought. The claws, or maybe teeth, drove into her skin. Everything felt on fire. She couldn’t move, and all she could do was gasp in quick breaths and try to see what was attacking her. Clarisse was on the ground. When did that happen? Did the beast push her to the ground during the beginning of its attack? Or maybe her legs had given out in the midst of it? Everything seemed to move slowly and fast all at once. She was already exhausted, having woken up at three am, but  _ Gods. _ She felt winded and weary and high on adrenaline and fear. It was an odd combination, being so alert and yet feeling like your soul was being torn from your body. The back of her neck burned.  _ Fuck,  _ Clarisse thought,  _ oh my Gods. I have  _ never _ been in worse pain.  _

_ Maybe this is for the best,  _ Clarisse thought. She seemed to be on the verge of being hated by everyone, and practically nobody would miss her if she died. But then she changed her mind. Maybe it wasn’t. All she had wanted to do was finish college, but the Gods or the fates or whatever the fuck were against her. People would miss her. Even if it was a small few, consisting of Annabeth, the Stolls, her mother, and (she hoped) Chris, they were people. People who would be very sad if she were to die. Clarisse didn’t want to wish that upon anyone, seeing as how she went through it first hand. What a life. What a fucking life. Something whispered in her ear, and she could hardly make out the words. “You have lived too long.”  _ What? _ That was the last thing she heard.  _ Silena, _ was the last thing she thought. The next morning, a few unfortunate students found a dead body surrounded by bags and blood. Questions had arisen so quickly, the entire school thrown off balance and into chaos. It was the last day of school, and there was a corpse. A corpse with eyes universes away and deep scratches on the neck. 

 


End file.
